The rest of the trip south, through alternation of watery spring sunshine and miserable cold rain, as the days lengthened and the Dwarfmounts loomed ever higher, Arcolin and Cracolnya discussed the Company, the situation in Tsaia, what might have happened in Aarenis over the winter, and made plans for every contingency they could imagine. Behind them the two cohorts marched along, the novices learning from Cracolnya’s veterans how best to keep themselves comfortable in overnight bivouacs. And not to dice with veterans.

“Not,” Cracolnya said one day at a midday halt, as they leaned on a rail fence together, “that we won’t be beaten on the head by something we never thought of.”

“True enough,” Arcolin said, though he privately thought Cracolnya put the worst face on things he could. “But I hope not.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Chaya

Dorrin Verrakai eyed her squire and heir with a mixture of amusement and severity. “Beclan, you have now been invited to dinner at how many Siers’ houses?”

“Five,” Beclan said. “This would be the sixth. Is that bad, my lord?”

“No, not bad, but—I think it’s annoying your—Rothlin.” She tried not to say “your brother” or “your father,” though she still thought of them that way and was sure Beclan did as well. “The princess fawning on him went back to Falk’s Hall; he’s had only one invitation I know of.”

“He’ll have his choice of the girls at court in Tsaia,” Beclan said.

Dorrin shook her head. “Not the right attitude, Kirgan Verrakai. He’s not your enemy; you should wish him well.”

“We’re not supposed to be together,” Beclan said. “Unless you think I should ask the families who invited me to invite him.” That with a challenging look, almost pert.

“Enough,” Dorrin said, firmly enough that he wilted. “You know better than that, but you could have made him seem like someone they might invite.”

Beclan looked thoughtful. “I didn’t think of it. I just thought—”

“How pretty the daughter of the house was and how much the family seemed to approve of you?” Dorrin asked.

“Well … yes.”

“And I had said you might find the girls here interesting. Yes. Well, you’re too young to marry, and I would like to see you a knight. If the king permits, and I think he will, you could go to Falk’s Hall. By then, it would be appropriate. Tell me, did any strike your fancy more than another?”

Beclan’s enthusiastic descriptions of all the girls made it hard for Dorrin to keep a straight face. Every family had offered an opportunity to chat with the girl or girls, a stroll through a garden, a reason to sing or dance or both. Considering his confinement most of the winter, his lack of experience at court before, and all that had happened, his exuberance seemed inevitable.